As I noted here a month ago, my interest in the Titanic originated in my four-year-old’s obsession with the maritime disaster, which I had at first found as inexplicable as other children’s obsession with dinosaurs.
This post is pure plagiarism, but not because I’m lazy or because today, for us Orthodox, it’s Christmas and I’m breaking the fast in some extraordinarily time-consuming, lamb-devouring, deck-the-halls way.
The child is only four, but neighbors are already beginning to ask why he isn’t in school.
Until then, gentle reader, have yourself a Merry Christmas of old.
What first struck me about the murder was the fact that the lady of the house was the photographer who had taken the portrait photo for the cover of The Art of the Deal.
Of course the sinking of the Titanic was huge news in 1912 and immediately afterward, but by the 1950’s it figured no more in the public consciousness than, say, the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 or the sack of Troy.
How to speak about politics without sliding into the pervasive banality of mainstream political discourse?
Or take another example, drawn from my four-year-old son’s videothèque – the sinking of the Titanic, which some inscrutable whimsy makes the child obsessed with at the moment.
A delegation from the Moscow Patriarchate arrived in Washington yesterday to work over those in the administration who do not yet believe that the Kremlin is an embattled bulwark of enlightened conservatism.
I seem to remember that our sainted webmaster dislikes Diogenes stories, if only because they are largely apocryphal, but I’m ill in bed with the ‘flu.
